[ Slowly drags her hand along her, fingertips feather-light along the inner seam of her pants, sliding up until they brush in along the join where it's hottest and back again. She looks up at the mirror-- the strange reflection where Nemesis is flushed and touching herself and alone-- and grins, brushing her lips against the shell of her ear as she murmurs. ]
Now look at that... she looks excited. I bet she'd like a little more, right?
[ And she guides the metal hand down, painfully slow, over her abdomen. ]
[Nemesis's voice is deep, throaty; the muscles flutter beneath that creeping, tingling touch. Unbidden, her hips roll against Req's phantom touch--the imagination of how it would feel to buck into her own hand, as if it can somehow speed up the touches to where she wants it so badly--where she's wanted it for some time now. Requiem can probably feel the dampness even through the layers of cloth--her thigh muscles tensing and untensing under the teasing. She looks at the mirror image again; shivers all down her back]
[ she kisses up along the pulse in her throat, eyeing the mirror the whole time, her own flesh hot and flushed SMS unfortunately invisible in the reflection.
Presses the tips of Nem's metal fingers down, just above her goal, pleasantly tingling and frustratingly close. ]
[Teeth digging into her lower lip, Nemesis fails not to buck up into the touch, which is almost enough, if she presses up just that much more. Emphasis on the "almost," which still isn't quite enough to get her to stop trying, not after this much teasing.
The Nemesis in the mirror screws up her face as she (almost) touches herself, face flushed and body trembling, flesh hand clutching at midair behind her, as if having no other way to express so much feeling.]
[ she murmurs again, shifting her unoccupied hand back up to start unbuttoning her pants so she can begin the slow slide of the metal below and beyond the seam, to let those fingers press into the hot, wet flesh. ]
[Nem whines again at the words, or perhaps at how—finally—there’s a way out of the uncomfortably damp pants. She lifts her hips as if to try and wriggle out of their constraint and the soaked panties beneath.
Of course, if just squirming was enough to work down the tight garments she’d have been naked long ago. But the pressure of Req’s unseen fingers down the fly is very good, and helping the firm, tingling fingers finally slide home is enough to make her curl down to her toes—to send another roil of slickness from inside her, helping the fingers move that much more easily. She arches up again, greedy, and shudders, letting out a low moan]
[ Req kisses at her throat again, gentle, and slowly draws her hand back; she looks down from the mirror and down along the curve of Nem's body to watch where her hand disappears into her pants and hums, deeply pleased, her face warm.
and a moment later she shifts, pulling both of her hands back, so she can wedge them under the waistline of those now-loose pants and start to push them down. ]
You can handle that, right...? Lemme help you with this.
[In the mirror the flush over her body spreads as Requiem peels off the slacks and her sodden panties, and she lets out another little shaky sound to commemorate it. She shivers into the feel of Req's cool hands against her hot skin--into the slight buzz of her fingers slip-sliding against her clit. Of course in the mirror it all looks like magic, her pants inching down of their own accord. It kind of feels like magic too, but maybe not quite the same kind.]
[ More magic better magic. She continues to shove her pants down as long as her own arms can reach-- and uses verticality to keep pulling them away, when they can't-- and croon wordlessly against her skin.
and once those pants are off she smooths her hands along the underside of Nem's thighs, spreading them just slightly, and moves one hand to settle, soft and warm, over her metal one again. ]
[Nemesis presses back into Req's touch, spreading her thighs even more--lets the warm weight of Req's hand over hers slide further down, spark electric at her entrance before she pulls the wetness back north with a voiced little shudder]
It's--good...
[It's very good, almost too good. Her hips snap up faster, and her thighs tense, attempt to close around her hand, regardless of the phantom touch. Her other hand drifts from Req's thigh up to her own hip, fluttering as if not knowing quite where to go]
[ Req's grip tightens just a little on her thigh, to keep her from closing them, glancing every so often to the mirror to see the image of her girlfriend spread out and pleasuring herself--
and heaves a hot, shuddering breath, trying to curl against her more and tilt her head to catch Nem's lips, but not quite close enough and presses her own to her jaw instead. And evidently seems fine with that, trailing soft, damp kisses along her. She guides that metal hand again, dips the tips of each of their fingers in against her entrance and presses, a little, before dragging her up again in smooth, repetitious motions. ]
[Her thighs pull back towards each other, partially just to feel Req's grip on her leg, partially to secure those fingertips in place--urge them up closer, more securely against her. Partially because holding still just feels impossible, her skin is just too sensitive to have even that much control.
With a little keening noise, Nemesis turns her head; fails to find Req's lips either. Leans forward, better to grind into their hands--shudders, leaning back to just the brush of their fingers. In the mirror, her hair spills back over nothing, there's only herself shamelessly reacting to the phantom touch. Her free hand comes up to grip at her breast, and she whines again at the feel and the sight of it]
C-can't hold out anymore... I-I'm gonna...
[Even as she speaks, the steady rhythm of her hips begins to falter, going jerky as holding on becomes less and less of a possibility]
[ She hitches a breath, at the words, and presses those buzzing fingers around Nem's clit, stroking purposefully; her own leave own to slide down again, to press the tip of her finger delicately into the welcomingly slick entrance. She looks up at the mirror again-- groans at the sight-- and bows her head, pressing her mouth to Nem's neck with damp, open-mouth kisses and rolling her hips in time with the other girl's motions, grinding up against her. ]
[Nemesis obliges with a desperate sound, and Requiem can probably feel in her wrist when the slight tingle in her hand bumps up a few notches--can surely feel it in the rest of her as her hips rock up and up and up, her whole body pressing into the hands and kisses and everything before finally going tense.
She barely even notices the groan ripped from her as she comes, swept away in the feeling--closes vice-tight around Requiem's finger, the odd twitch around it her only movement for an endless moment]
[ just... whispering it, breathless, as she strokes her through her orgasm, pressing that finger in a little deeper on her next strokes to feel the unrelenting squeeze of those muscles. Her fingers remain tight on her thigh as she twitches, keeping her still against her until those waves of pleasure fade.
... and releases the one hand, without bothering to remove the finger of the other, gently stroking over her skin. ]
[Gradually Nemesis comes back to herself, shakily moving her hand away from her clit despite how it still feels (maybe too) good; despite how she continues to jerk up into Req's finger in small little pulses.
Which all makes it difficult to turn around to get Requiem into a proper kiss, but it doesn't stop her from trying]
[with some effort, lets her go. then clambers over to face her, pressing more sloppy kisses to her lips and chin before just leaning into the crook of Req's neck, still shivering]
[ req's still heated, her whole body hot where it'd be in contact with nem's, but she gathers her in against her, laughing into her hair and stroking along her spine. ]
Right? I can't believe you never tried it on yourself before.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
[ Slowly drags her hand along her, fingertips feather-light along the inner seam of her pants, sliding up until they brush in along the join where it's hottest and back again. She looks up at the mirror-- the strange reflection where Nemesis is flushed and touching herself and alone-- and grins, brushing her lips against the shell of her ear as she murmurs. ]
Now look at that... she looks excited. I bet she'd like a little more, right?
[ And she guides the metal hand down, painfully slow, over her abdomen. ]
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
[Nemesis's voice is deep, throaty; the muscles flutter beneath that creeping, tingling touch. Unbidden, her hips roll against Req's phantom touch--the imagination of how it would feel to buck into her own hand, as if it can somehow speed up the touches to where she wants it so badly--where she's wanted it for some time now. Requiem can probably feel the dampness even through the layers of cloth--her thigh muscles tensing and untensing under the teasing. She looks at the mirror image again; shivers all down her back]
C...c'mon...
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
Presses the tips of Nem's metal fingers down, just above her goal, pleasantly tingling and frustratingly close. ]
C'mon what?
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
[Teeth digging into her lower lip, Nemesis fails not to buck up into the touch, which is almost enough, if she presses up just that much more. Emphasis on the "almost," which still isn't quite enough to get her to stop trying, not after this much teasing.
The Nemesis in the mirror screws up her face as she (almost) touches herself, face flushed and body trembling, flesh hand clutching at midair behind her, as if having no other way to express so much feeling.]
Let me-- Keep going.
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
[ she murmurs again, shifting her unoccupied hand back up to start unbuttoning her pants so she can begin the slow slide of the metal below and beyond the seam, to let those fingers press into the hot, wet flesh. ]
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
Of course, if just squirming was enough to work down the tight garments she’d have been naked long ago. But the pressure of Req’s unseen fingers down the fly is very good, and helping the firm, tingling fingers finally slide home is enough to make her curl down to her toes—to send another roil of slickness from inside her, helping the fingers move that much more easily. She arches up again, greedy, and shudders, letting out a low moan]
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
and a moment later she shifts, pulling both of her hands back, so she can wedge them under the waistline of those now-loose pants and start to push them down. ]
You can handle that, right...? Lemme help you with this.
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
[In the mirror the flush over her body spreads as Requiem peels off the slacks and her sodden panties, and she lets out another little shaky sound to commemorate it. She shivers into the feel of Req's cool hands against her hot skin--into the slight buzz of her fingers slip-sliding against her clit. Of course in the mirror it all looks like magic, her pants inching down of their own accord. It kind of feels like magic too, but maybe not quite the same kind.]
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
and once those pants are off she smooths her hands along the underside of Nem's thighs, spreading them just slightly, and moves one hand to settle, soft and warm, over her metal one again. ]
How's it feel, baby...?
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
It's--good...
[It's very good, almost too good. Her hips snap up faster, and her thighs tense, attempt to close around her hand, regardless of the phantom touch. Her other hand drifts from Req's thigh up to her own hip, fluttering as if not knowing quite where to go]
M-Marceline... I-- I want--
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
[ Req's grip tightens just a little on her thigh, to keep her from closing them, glancing every so often to the mirror to see the image of her girlfriend spread out and pleasuring herself--
and heaves a hot, shuddering breath, trying to curl against her more and tilt her head to catch Nem's lips, but not quite close enough and presses her own to her jaw instead. And evidently seems fine with that, trailing soft, damp kisses along her. She guides that metal hand again, dips the tips of each of their fingers in against her entrance and presses, a little, before dragging her up again in smooth, repetitious motions. ]
Want what, baby...? Tell me.
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
With a little keening noise, Nemesis turns her head; fails to find Req's lips either. Leans forward, better to grind into their hands--shudders, leaning back to just the brush of their fingers. In the mirror, her hair spills back over nothing, there's only herself shamelessly reacting to the phantom touch. Her free hand comes up to grip at her breast, and she whines again at the feel and the sight of it]
C-can't hold out anymore... I-I'm gonna...
[Even as she speaks, the steady rhythm of her hips begins to falter, going jerky as holding on becomes less and less of a possibility]
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
Come on, Kitty-- turn it up a lil', come for me--
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
She barely even notices the groan ripped from her as she comes, swept away in the feeling--closes vice-tight around Requiem's finger, the odd twitch around it her only movement for an endless moment]
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
[ just... whispering it, breathless, as she strokes her through her orgasm, pressing that finger in a little deeper on her next strokes to feel the unrelenting squeeze of those muscles. Her fingers remain tight on her thigh as she twitches, keeping her still against her until those waves of pleasure fade.
... and releases the one hand, without bothering to remove the finger of the other, gently stroking over her skin. ]
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
Which all makes it difficult to turn around to get Requiem into a proper kiss, but it doesn't stop her from trying]
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... and, eventually, murmur against her lips. ]
How'd it go?
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...Holy shit.
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Right? I can't believe you never tried it on yourself before.
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Yeah, well... Trying it with you was better, for sure.
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
Not arguing that.
Re: now with the correct journal, oops.
But also...uh. I don't do that kinda stuff too often. 'S hard not to think about you, and then it just seems rude.
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goes pretty red, too, once the understanding hits her. ]
... I-I mean. I kinda... like that. The idea of you doing that-- thinking of me...
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[swallows]
You might, uh. Like that?
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